Don't Poke the Bear!

Chapter 19

FOR THE NEXT couple of hours we sit and I talk while waitin' for Rose to show up. I don't bother workin' on Shrug's wound, knowin' Rose is a better doctor than any I've met. In all the time I've known her, she's only lost one patient, and that one had been gored repeatedly by a hydrophobic bull. By the time it's late afternoon, I get around to sayin', "Oh, and we got a bear livin' with us!"

Shrug shows me his quizzical look.

I say, "Yup, right in the house, in the corner of the main room."

He cocks his head and I say, "Black bear. Maybe 600 pounds."

I start tellin' him how Bad Vlad shot the gun out of my hand in near pitch dark, and how I wound up with Rudy after tryin' to scrounge up burial money. I got sidetracked and told him about how we're at war, only we don't know much about it. Then I get back on the subject of Rudy, and how he danced that night, and how Gentry threatened to leave me, and how I shot six holes in the piano. Halfway through that part of the story, and before I got to the part where the Doc operated on him and how we take him for walks and play tag and such-Shrug touches my arm, signalin' me to hush. We both listen. I have wonderful eyesight, and a fine pair of ears. But I don't hear or see anythin'.

Shrug makes a fist, opens it up, and wiggles his fingers.

"Rose is here? Already?"

He nods.

"Okay. I'll go find her and we'll bring the wagon to you."

Turns out I don't need to go huntin' for Rose. As I crest the hill I see her headin' straight for us. I ride on up, and we wave as I approach.

"How bad is he?" she says.

I wasn't surprised Rose knew about Shrug bein' shot. She always knows these sorts of things without bein' told. Because of that, and because she's a great doctor and cook, and can talk to animals and serpents, and because she's a great traveler, and a woman of wealth, and able to read other people's thoughts and put her own thoughts in people's heads, and because she can disappear from view right before your eyes, and jump fifteen feet straight up in the air onto tree limbs-Rose is a helluva handy woman to have around.

When she ain't scarin' the shit outta you by doin' all them things.

"He'll be fine," I say, "Now that you're here. How are you, Rose?"

She smiles. "Life is good. Let's get Wayne in the wagon, and we can catch up on everything while I work on him."

I notice she's taken to callin' Shrug "Wayne." Phoebe used to do that. On the trip from Rolla to Dodge last September, our mail order bride, Phoebe Thayer, took a shine to Shrug early on, which was a good thing for both of 'em.

"How's Hannah?" I ask, as we round the hill toward the spot where Shrug's waitin' for us. Hannah's the little orphan girl we met on our last journey. Like Rudy, she'd been abused throughout her young life, and Rose took pity on her and took her back to Springfield to raise.

"Hannah's blossoming. Roberto and his wife are watching her for me, so she'll probably speak fluent Spanish by the time I get back."

Roberto is Rose's ranch hand, and has been, ever since I met her.

"Shrug gave me the impression you came all this way because of me."

"I did."

"Why's that?"

"Someone's coming for you, and I need to be here."

"Who's comin'?"

"Bose Rennick."